


The Miracle of Lights

by ama



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Canon Jewish Character, Gen, Hanukkah, Humor, Novelty Hats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9003868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama/pseuds/ama
Summary: "Ray. What the fuck are you wearing?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> I showed [these hats](http://www.villagehatshop.com/photos/product/giant/4511390S91073/alt/91073.jpg) these hats to rivlee and the first thing she said was that she needed the fic where Ray bought them for everyone. So here it is. Chag Chanukah sameach!

People started laughing the moment Ray stepped in the room--had started the moment he stepped on base, really--but Brad didn’t look up until Ray flung himself down in the chair right across from him. He raised his head with a long-suffering air, and slowly a look of wonderment dawned on his face.

“Ray,” he said quietly. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

“Boots, khaki pants and a green t-shirt,” he responded promptly. He was proud of himself for answering without laughing, even if he was grinning like a maniac. The people around him were having more trouble; Poke was wheezing into his fist so hard he was going to suffocate himself. “And I went commando just for you, baby. What are _you_ wearing?”

“What is on your _head_?”

“Oh, _this_. I don’t know why you look so shocked, homes. Obviously on this festive day, I have taken it upon myself to don the traditional garb of your people in order to demonstrate the Marine Corps’ enduring efforts at promoting multiculturalism and all that bullshit. Don’t worry, I got one for you, too.”

Ray dug into the plastic bag at his feet and pulled out an enormous blue velvet menorah hat, complete with yellow-and-orange felt flames, and threw it in Brad’s direction. Brad caught it more out of instinct than anything, and finally his shoulders started to shake with laughter.

“I’m calling the fucking ADL.”

“Chag Sameach, my Hebrew friend,” Ray declared, phlegming up the _ch_ s as much as he could. He went back to the bag and pulled out three more hats. “The guy on eBay said he would give me free shipping if I got five or more, so our victor is going to look fly as fuck and then one of you lucky bastards can take the last one.”

He threw hats at Trombley and Walt; Walt laughed and shook his head with that charming boyish ‘Ray is a dumbass’ look, but Trombley looked at Ray like he was crazy.

“I’m _not_ wearing that thing.”

“Lance Corporal Trombley, be advised that, as an enlisted marine, you are honor-bound to afford all due respect to your NCOs,” Brad said, and Ray nodded sagely. “As Ray has astutely pointed out, it is in fact Hanukkah, and I would very much appreciate it if you would put on that hat.”

“Is that a suggestion or an order, sarge?" Trombley asked in a pained voice.

“That’s an order.”

The room was full of laughter and jeers, so it probably wasn’t surprising that, as Fick passed by the door, he poked his head in curiously. He glanced around the room and then his gaze settled on Ray, and he sighed, _of course_ written all over his face. He stepped into the room, Gunny at his elbow as usual.

“Nice hat, Ray,” he said, trying to restrain a smile--or at least Ray was _pretty sure_ he was trying.

“Thanks, LT. I’ve got an extra one if you want.” He wiggled the remaining hat enticingly, and  the felt candles wobbled.

“I would, but I am fairly sure that it’s not regulation.”

“I thought there was an exemption for religious items, sir.”

Behind him, Brad nearly choked, and Ray bit the inside of his cheek.

“That is true. Tell you what, I’ll let this one slide, and I suggest that you consult Sergeant Major Sixta about it as soon as possible.”

“I’ll do that, sir.”

Fick and Gunny Wynn left the room, and Ray turned back to Brad. He hadn’t put the hat on--but, Ray noticed, he had tucked it discreetly into his bag, rather than the trash can, so there was still a chance. He looked up and met Brad’s gaze, and put on his best puppy-dog eyes.

“Please. Dude, please, let me just see--”

“No.”

“See, that’s the awesome thing about eight-day holidays, Brad. It gives me seven more days to wear you down.”

**Author's Note:**

> (eventually they play a dreidl drinking game and Brad does wear the hat. it's the best day of Ray's life.)


End file.
